I’m deep in the second week of my 60-Day Get Fit Challenge, and an unsettling routine has emerged. My last four mornings have gone like this:
No, this doesn’t mean that I’m slacking altogether. I’m still doing cardio and weights and am already, surprisingly, starting to notice a change in my body. So why can’t I get my butt to a class?
Reason #1: I compare – and resent.
I love that there are people out there who thrive on the energy of a fitness class. Inspired by the other participants, the teacher, and the music, they dig deeper and push their bodies more than they would on their own. I happen to not be one of those people. In fact, classes seem to have the opposite effect on me.
As soon as I enter the room, I notice who’s thinner than I am. Then I notice who’s wearing cuter workout clothes (I refuse to give up the $8 Target tees, despite my glaring and pathetic inferiority complex). Then the class begins, and I’m absolutely certain that everyone is having an easier time and is in better shape than I am. With the all of the insecurity weighing me down, it’s no wonder I can hardly hold my downward dog.
Too bad constantly comparing myself to other people doesn’t burn calories. If it did, the muffin tops would be a distant memory.
Reason #2: I want less positive role models.
Can someone tell me how fitness instructors work their heart rate right up to the brink of cardiac arrest and still manage to bark out instructions in full paragraphs? And why do they have to look so fantastic?
I would like to find a teacher who’s toting some extra poundage, feeling slightly self-conscious in skintight clothes, and is gasping for breath even after a light warm-up. Call me crazy, but that would get me going. We could call it Support Group Fitness. Wow, that could even be a cool new VH1 reality show: “The Mush Leading the Mush.”
Reason #3: I’m a commitment-phobe.
Am I the only one who thinks that any class more than 45 minutes is just too darn long? By minute 15, I’m already planning my bathroom break; you know, the time you give yourself to leave the class, use the bathroom, and then read all of the random flyers on the gym or studio’s community bulletin board.
Even after those 10 or 15 minutes are up, I still have a hard time finishing the workout. And, of course, I’m the only one. All of those super-fit, cute, lululemon-wearing women who have life all figured out are still going strong right until the final second.
Maybe the reasons I don’t like classes are actually the same reasons I got myself into this mess in the first place. I spend way too much time and energy focusing on what everyone else is doing and comparing myself unfavorably.
Is there an exercise for exorcising all of the insecurities that I’ve collected over the last 38 years? Oh wait, let me guess. I bet you’re thinking that there’s nothing like a good workout to ease all of those worries away. Let me just take a quick look at this class schedule I have here. Hmmm, how about this one...
(The cool pic comes from NY Magazine in an article about funky fitness classes. Try out those hammock stretches next time your in NYC, and let me know how it goes!)
Filed under: Mama Gets Her Groove Back